


you're looking like you fell in love tonight

by SunsetsandSunrise



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25506382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunsetsandSunrise/pseuds/SunsetsandSunrise
Summary: “love is weakness, and pain, and it will ruin you.”
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was suppose to be a friends with benefits that fall in love but I just...suck at finishing stories lmao

I'm sorry but I fell in love tonight / I didn't mean to fall in love tonight  
you're looking like you fell in love tonight / could we pretend that we're in love?  
/Halsey- is there somewhere?/

___________

“Lexa.”

she doesn’t want to turn and look at Clarke with the indifference she has mastered from the countless times she’s done this- the times she couldn’t stop herself from glancing back, only to see Clarke sitting up in bed, white sheets clutched to her bare chest, watching Lexa leave with a sad smile and glancing away before the door closed shut behind her.

Except this is the first time Clarke’s called out her name, and it was hard leaving all those other times-even when she pretends like it wasn’t-and now it’s almost impossible to walk away from the girl whose blonde curls were sprawled across her chest only minutes ago.

“I...I can't keep pretending that this doesn’t mean more to me than it does.”  
Clarke’s voice claws down Lexa’s neck and back like angry thorns scratching and breaking the skin, even when her voice is anything but angry. Tints of disappointment and sadness paint Clarke’s tone, cracking and squeezing Lexa’s heart with strokes of guilt and smudges of pain.  
Her hand tightens around the doorknob, knuckles white.

“Stay…please…”

Clarke's voice breaks when she speaks- it’s only fair Lexa breaks with it.

She wonders if Clarke can tell her hands are shaking, a trembling of bones that shudder from her quivering lips to curled toes that dig into the soles of her untied shoes, like roots of a tree keeping Lexa from crawling back between the warmth of Clarke’s sheets.

(how far can a tree bend before it snaps?)

(how long can she stand there before Clarke becomes her roots?)

(Lexa can’t admit she already has)

The turning of the doorknob splinters through the room like lighting striking a tree, and she hears her mothers voice like thunder, “love is weakness, and pain, and it will ruin you.”

“I’m sorry.” she whispers, so quietly she’s not sure Clarke hears her. She pulls the bedroom door open and closes it softly. 

Eyes closed, she takes deep breaths - exhaling her sadness and heartbreak like smog, and inhaling what she doesn't want to recognize as regret. 

When it’s easier to breath she pushes off the wall and stares straight ahead as she makes her way to the front door, unwilling to let her gaze linger on details she tried - and failed - to not be familiar with. 

Heavy feet drag across the threshold, and when the front door clicks shut her shoulders collapse under the weight of unspoken words. 

Sometimes she thinks her heart was made to break and mend and tear at the seams.

//

She loses track of time whenever she’s up here, high enough from the ground that her problems only grasp at her conscious with slipping fingers, but not high enough that she can escape Clarke's voice as it echoes through her mind.

Stay…please  
Her eyes sting and she licks her dry lips as she hugs her knees closer to her chest, resting her chin on them. 

Sometimes she thinks that if she stares into the endless ocean, that she’ll be able to lose enough of herself to forget where she is and what she's done and who she hurt.

(she never forgets)

The sky is blazing, streaks of pink and orange tearing the blue sky like bleeding wounds. The sun is setting in the horizon, and Lexa wonders how long it would take her to flee from this God forsaken city-if she would stand a chance against the hold Clarke has on her, like an anchored ship trying to sail against the crashing waves.

She sighs when the sun sets, glancing down at the phone that sits untouched on the ledge she’s been sitting on for the past two hours. She taps the screen and it brightens, 3 missed calls flashing in the darkness. If she didn’t know who they were from she would actually bother checking. She doesn’t understand why Anya insists on calling her when she already knows where Lexa is.

Because Anya understands. 

She understands the need for silence, and solitude, and some form of getaway resembling peace. 

She understands that Lexa only lets herself feel anything relatively close to pain, and sadness, and loss when she’s on the roof of the twelve story building that hovers on the edge of the city. 

But this isn’t just a place where Lexa lets herself feel everything that bottles up in her chest like a canon ready to explode through her heart in a bloody mess of anger. 

This roof isn’t just a battle ground for her self deprecation anymore. 

Three months ago something else started to replace the wrath that used to burn through her veins like acid threatening to render her emotionless - with a thrilling electricity that sparked something real and blissful that surged from the pit of her stomach to every nerve ending. 

She didn't want to recognize the feelings that sent her heart in a frenzy for what they were.

It was easier to feel everything that made her want to bash her fists into the cement under her, that made her want to scream until her voice filled the sky with her bleeding wounds. 

Because she understood those things. She’s lived with bloody knuckles and a burning throat since her mother and Costia died. 

But the feelings that singed Lexa’s skin like her fingertips when they traced Lexa’s back with a tenderness she felt would shatter her, the fingertips that scratched and clawed at her skin in the moon lit bedroom when their bodies curved and arched against each other; those feelings caught in Lexa’s throat when she sat on the roof and gazed at the sun streaks flowing across the sky in waves that reminded Lexa too much of her hair, and how the shimmering ocean had begun to look like her eyes. 

And the thing is that Anya's told her that it's okay to feel whatever it is she's feeling, that she is young and should relish in the emotions that whirl her head and heart like a hurricane into a confusing mess that Lexa knows will destroy her precarious life. 

Anya understands and reassures her that it's okay to be in love 

(Lexa isn’t in love)

She understands why Lexa doesn’t let Clarke in

(Anya knows Clarke is already buried deep in Lexa’s heart in the way her voice strengthens when she says her name)

that even in this city, with its knack for fucking up everything good in life, it is okay to feel and feel and feel.

Lexa knows, but it doesn’t stop her from swallowing the words that scorch like vodka flooding down her throat, chocking and drowning her under the brilliant stars scattered across the night sky.

Sometimes those feelings quiver on her lips, begging to spill from her mouth like a prayer. 

(sometimes)

Lexa shivers against the cold breeze that ruffles her hair. The sun is long gone beyond the horizon, taking with it the streaks of her hair and submerging the blue of her eyes in darkness. 

She’s tired. Tired of fighting and pretending, and lying. 

Lying to herself, lying to Clarke.

She unfurls against the ledge, chokes down the vodka clawing at her throat, and with a final glance at the moonlit ocean, turns and leaves. 

___________

3 months ago

Clarke cradles her coffee mug between her hands, elbows resting on the counter she's usually not allowed behind.

She's been dozing off, not use to being up at the crack of dawn, but she promised Raven she would help her out at the café since the manager was off on vacation and left her in charge. 

Clarke regretted it the moment her alarm went off at 4 am in all honesty. She almost turned it off and went back to sleep, but a not so subtle threatening txt from Raven and she dragged herself out of bed.

She sighs exceedingly loud and thumps her forehead against the counter, catching Raven's eye roll when she turns to face her. 

"Why do you do this to yourself?" She questions, mouth tilting down in a scowl.

"Because we don't all come from money sweetheart." Raven throws the rag she was using to clean the coffee machines at Clarke, laughing when she doesn't attempt to stop it from plopping on her face.

"You could ask for the afternoon shift." Clarke reasons from under the cloth. She grabs the rag off her face and throws it back to Raven who catches it with ease.

"And deal with the lunch crowd? No thanks."

"The morning crowd is just as bad."

"But not until later. It's pretty dead right now if you haven't noticed."

Clarke glances around the empty café. A few lightbulbs dangle from the roof, dimly lighting the room. Booths press against the far walls and small round tables are scattered around the center. Dark wooden floors, slightly less dark walls. The place has a underground vibe to it, perfect for the college crowd. It was much more welcoming once the sun came out though. At 5 in the morning? Only two people have come in since they opened, and they had both rushed out as soon as they got their coffees. 

She frowns when she spots a steaming cup in a corner booth, and just as she's about to ask Raven if the place is haunted (because she doesn't doubt for a second that it could be) the restroom door swings open and out saunters a brunette who looks too awake for such early hours.

(She also looks like she was carved by the Gods themselves but that's beside the point)

Clarke straightens the moment she sees her, like caffeine has been shot directly into her veins.

The girl doesn't glance at them as she makes her way to her booth, and Clarke slaps Raven's arm, earning an annoyed grunt.

"When did she come in?"

Raven smirks, "Sometime between you going to grab the to-go cups I asked for, and the 10 minute nap you took when you were back there."


	2. pull the rug beneath my feet and shake me to the ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a last of us inspired fic.

Do you hear me when I say that maybe I am just lonely (maybe I am just falling for you) grizfolk-waiting for you

tell me a piece of your history // that you've never said out loud // pull the rug beneath my feet and shake me to the ground // wrap me around your fingers // break the silence open wide // before it seeps into my ears // and fills me up from the inside  
bastille-the silence

//

The nightmares are something you’re use to, they burn and flash behind your eyelids with vivid clarity, and you wake with a sheen of sweat that makes your tank top cling to your skin. 

Tonight’s not any different; the ghastly face resembling that of your dads materializes in this nightmare and your eyes snap open when bloody fingers wrap around your throat. 

You press your palms against your eyes in frustration, trying to rub away the image of your dads vacant eyes, of blood stained memories as you curl into yourself, knees drawn to your chest, but no matter how hard you press against your eyes there’s no stopping the tears from escaping.

You’re tired of hurting, of the constant stream of painful memories that engulf you in the silence and dark. It’s exhausting and draining and sometimes you’re not very good at hiding how much it’s affecting you. and when that happens Lexa’s there.

She’s always there, waiting outside of your room once you’re done getting ready, and she doesn't tense anymore when you greet her with a tight hug. She’s next to you at the rations line, and you don’t miss the way her gaze lingers on the dark skin under your eyes. She's always somehow next to you when you stumble during physical training (her fingers squeeze your forearm reassuringly when she steadies you and she ignores the disapproving look Kane sends your way)

She's become the needle and thread to your open wounds, and you know how dangerous that is. No one is a guaranteed in this life, but when you meet her eyes those worries dissipate like dust in the wind and you let the warmth of her smile seep into your racing heart. 

Lexa's green eyes replace the milky-white ones burning behind your eyelids and your breathing slowly starts to even out. Blinking away the bright spots flicking in your vision you lean against the wall, legs crossed on the stiff mattress (you tried blaming it as the reason you couldn't sleep but Lexa's incredulous hum was far from believing) and you clutch your worn pillow to your chest. 

The room they gave you is empty, bare compared to the one you had back at the Ark. Nothing but the small bed and lone stand occupy the space, and the sight does nothing to comfort you. 

You're staring at the empty closet across from you when a soft knock pierces the quiet, and the door cracks open.

"Clarke?"

Lexa doesn't come in, and you tilt your head towards the door.

"Yeah?"

You watch her faint outline as she steps past the threshold and closes the door behind her. The steps she takes toward you are hesitant, more than you've ever seen her be, and you lean forward, elbows resting on the pillow on your lap. 

"Couldn't sleep?" 

She shrugs, fingers grazing the frayed hem of her shirt. Her hair is messy and curly, free of it's usual braids, and she tucks a few stubborn strands that fall over her eyes behind her ear. 

"Sleep doesn't come easily anymore."  
She admits slowly, in a quiet whisper, careful and guarded. 

You pat the spot next to you and her shoulders slump almost in relief. She settles next to you, and your arm tingles when she presses against you.

Neither say anything for a while, just stare out the window at the stars speckled across the night sky, and when Lexa leans her head against your shoulder you tilt your head against hers. 

"I shared my old room with my sister." She says, and the words pull at your chest. "Our parents would always sing bits of songs they could remember whenever we were scared. After they died...Anya would sing at night when we couldn't sleep. Or she would try." She breathes out a quiet laugh, and your finger unconsciously find their way between hers. "Her singing wasn't the best."

Her next breath is broken by a shudder and she swallows, "I miss her."

You squeeze her hand. It's warm and soft despite it being calloused from training, and when you pull back to look at her she lifts her head off your shoulder, green gaze flicking across your face.

Whatever words you were going to say get caught in your throat when she lifts her hand to your face, slow and careful, and with the tenderest of touches swipes her thumb across your cheek. 

Your cheeks burn under her touch and she pulls her hand away, embarrassment widening her eyes before she looks away.

"I'm sor-"

You grip her hand, both of them now caught in each of yours, and urge her to look at you with a gentle tug.

"I haven't been able to sleep well for a long time." You say.

She nods. "This bed really is uncomfortable."

You chuckle quietly, and the smile she gives lasts only a second.

"But that's not the reason you haven't been sleeping well, is it?" She asks.

You shake your head, "I have nightmares, and this room is so-"

"Empty."

You nod, "and quiet. I just..." 

She waits patiently for you to finish, but your throat is suddenly so dry and her eyes aren't making it any easier to get the words out.

"I was hoping, if you were okay with it of course you totally don't have to if you don't want-"

"Clarke." Lexa interrupts with a small smile.

"Right, sorry." You take a deep breath, and you realize you've let go of her hands and are mindlessly playing with her fingers. "Would you like to sleep with me?"

Her eyes widen, and you groan at your choice of words when she looks away. You grab the pillow and press it over your face as you fall back on the mattress.

"I swear I meant that in the most innocent of ways." Your words are muffled and you clutch the pillow tighter, hoping it'll swallow you whole.

The mattress dips as Lexa moves, and you're pretty sure she's laying next to you when she unfurls your fingers from the pillow. She pulls it away from you, the cool air instantly soothing against your flushed cheeks, and you risk opening an eye to peek at her.

She's smiling, hair brushed over her shoulder as she leans up on her elbow, and you realize having Lexa in the same bed as you probably won't help you sleep.

You really didn't think this through.

"I'll sleep here." She says, lips pulling into a smirk. "But only if you share your pillow, because this bed is seriously uncomfortable. How is your back not broken by now? Is this why you can't do any push ups?"

You roll your eyes and shove her shoulder when she laughs, making her fall back onto the bed. She grips your arm and gives a small yelp when she almost tumbles onto the floor and you catch her around the waist just in time to pull her fully onto the bed again. The small bed, with barely any room for two people, meaning Lexa is half on top of you, and your arm is still tightly wrapped around her waist.

She blinks at you, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"You know..."she whispers, voice a taking dangerously husky tone that you're sure is not good for your health. "You can keep your pillow." 

She shifts off of you, long enough to grab the pillow, and you frown when she gestures for you to lift your head. She rolls her eyes and pulls you up, and you swallow when she reaches around you to places the soft material under your head. 

You lay back down, hand still gripping her waist, and when she lays her head against your chest you almost don't care that she'll notice how fast your heart is beating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this on 1/11/16. Yikes

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I found these two unfinished one shots in my iphone notes and figured I might as well publish them somewhere since they’ve been there since 2015 (!)


End file.
